Playing the Piano
by Nijimi Daiquiri
Summary: Alfred and Kiku are serenely enjoying the calm and peace the piano brings with it, even if nothing is as it seems. Alfred/Kiku frienship, AU, Oneshot.


Playing the Piano

"So I just play the tone like this?" He asked softly, dark lashes fluttering at the scenery around him as he turned to met the others eyes.

"Yes, just like that!" He cheered quietly, urging the other to continue with a false smile, "You're quite lovely at playing the piano, Kiku."

"Thank you, Alfred." He smiled, stretching his lithe, pale fingers across the monochrome keys, "I shall start from the beginning." He stated, hesitantly pressing his fingers on the white and black, before continuing with his deep, sorrowful music. The music resounded with rain drops of melodic beats- like each drop was telling a sad story...is this...maybe why people cover their heads from the rain?"

A soft chuckle came from the others lips, "Possibly...but you have to remember- not everyone covers their head from the rain, some just let the pain flow." He offered kindly, joining the other on the lonesome seat, "Do you perhaps require more?" He asked, waiting for the others consent.

The onyx haired man nodded, pale skin not moving an inch from the creamy piano, as if completely overtaken by the music. He was being completely deluded by the tone, then another hand joined in and- a flourish of music began. Notes synchronizing in a harmony of darkness and light, pain and sorrow merging with pleasure and joy. It was breathtakingly beautiful, "Alfred, what are you doing?"

"I'm helping." He chuckled, "...It just seemed so..."

"Sad?" Helped the Japanese man, smiling gently at his friend, "I know, it's supposed to be. Do you not like it?"

"I love it but..." Now it was the American's turn, "It just...reminds me of you. Is there something you're not telling me?"

Not a word was uttered by the two after that, only the distinct sounds of the piano, playing for all it's worth, as if telling exactly how darkness sounded. Then the silence was broken, the melody had changed beats, gracefully coming to a saddening end, the keys twinkling lightly with the music, overtaken in the beauty of it all.

_'The notes in this song remind me of raindrops...each having it's own sad tale...is that why people cover their heads from the rain?' Asked a miniscule Alfred, sitting on the edge of the porcelain steps, admiring the view of a stormy day and the faint melody of the piano behind him. Then another voice piped in from beyond._

_'I do not cover my head from the rain. Some people just let the pain flow.' Stated Kiku, coming from the shadows with dripping wet, soggy clothes, yet a gentle at ease smile._

_'Why? Aren't you scared of what could happen to you?' He mumbled questioningly, curious about this stranger._

_'Of course I am, but in order to grow...you have to learn to face these things, child.' He spoke softly, sitting next to the smaller male at the bottom of the steps._

As soon as the song ended, Alfred stood slowly, hands stroking the piano like a dear loved one, like he missed something of extended value, "...Is there something you're not telling me?" He repeated again, a single tear escaping from it's prison in the others ocean blue eyes, gently gliding down the creamy pale skin of the American. Alfred was completely numb to his surroundings, not paying mind to the pearly white walls nor the lack of windows, only the visible piano in the room.

There were no doors, there was no escape, there was absolutely nothing but this piano, "...Why...didn't you tell me?" He asked desperately, clutching the fragile piano tightly, "...Why?" He cried out, slamming his hands on the piano, which made not a noise in the empty room. Then a voice chimed in from the microphone.

"_Patient number 00036214, end the unnecessary talk. There's nothing else in the room._" Harshly spoke out the British voice, "_Pathetic piece of garbage._" He hissed again, before disappearing.

Alfred was left again in the deafening silence, eyes resting disapprovingly on the floor, before he began to slowly back away from where the piano once was and headed back into the wall. His back slammed against it and slid, slid down with a loud, heart wrenching sob from the now breaking American, "...Why...?" He asked again, eyes trying to look back at the piano.

Now he was aware of his surroundings, aware of everything that had gone on since his best friend's death, "...Why didn't you just tell me you were sick?" He cried out, "I could have helped!" Came out the sharp scream as he clutched his hair in anxiety, "...I could have helped...I could have helped..." He whispered, lips trembling in shame.

Those were the last words spoken in the psychiatric asylum's room number six, as Alfred had completely gone mute; instead spending his time staring at the center of the room and occasionally 'playing piano' with his friend Kiku, whom apparently never left his side. Even if he had been dead for the past ten years.

Strangely, even after Alfred had died from an unknown illness, anyone who came close to the room would now and then hear exquisite piano notes and fine laughter from two male voices, sounding just like Alfred and Kiku, playing on the piano like old times.


End file.
